Common Blood

[Eldrie]

<i>((I'm really nervous to post this! This forum has so many great storytellers that I can only dream my work might someday garner as much interest. Right now this work is far from finished, but I'm busily writing. This is what I have so far.))</i> <div align="center"><b> Prologue</b> </div> Dawn had just broken as I rode up to the city gates. Dismounting, I appraised the crowd that had already begun to gather. The days were growing longer, which always meant more travelers to Qeynos: farmers with the fruits of early harvests, adventurers back from distant lands hoping to trade plundered treasures for a comfortable place to enjoy the coming summer, and refugees from Freeport, or the Steppes, or gods only knew where else, here to throw themselves on the Queen's mercy. Luckily for them, mercy was not in short supply under her rule. I decided to let the queue thin out some before approaching the gates. Best to let the guards wear themselves out questioning unsuspecting travelers first; and besides, my horse was eager to tear into the thick grass that glistened like emeralds in the emerging sunlight. ‘The Queen has probably commanded that even dung be beautiful if you can see it from the city walls," I laughed to myself, not for the first time, and took a seat on a rock within earshot of the milling crowd. Only mindless chatter about weather and market prices floated to my ears as I reflexively pulled my satchel from my shoulder and checked its contents. My fingers found a sheaf of papers and a small, finely crafted wooden box, just as they had the last ten times I'd checked on my way here. There would be no trouble with the papers- they were official, after all- but still I had to remind myself not to be nervous. No matter how many times I did this it never got any easier.   Over in the Harbor, the Clock of Ak'Anon announced the new day, and the massive wooden gates swung open without a creak or groan. The crowd organized itself as best it was able, no one wishing to be singled out by the guards for failing to respect order. Qeynos's farmers were looking much less ragged than they had in years past, I noted approvingly. And clearly adventuring was paying as well as it always had, to look at the gleaming armors and bulging saddlebags sported by a growing percentage of the crowd at the gates. After about an hour, the crowd thinned enough that I was ready to take my place in line. While I didn't want to be the first to attempt entrance, I didn't want to be the last, either: pressure to get the queue sorted out would keep the guards from questioning me too heavily. "Name, status, and papers," the helmeted human said brusquely. It seemed he'd tired of gate duty even earlier than I'd expected he might. His partner, also human, said nothing, but never let his piercing stare stray from my hands and face. With a demure downward glance, I pulled my papers from my bag and handed them to the man. There was a mage in one of the two towers above us, without a doubt, and if I'd been using an illusion, or if my papers were magic-forged, I'd be halfway to the dungeons by now. Still, I had to ensure that neither guard felt like detaining me needlessly. Times like these, I wished I owned more low cut tops and less padded leather armor. Turned out I didn't even need to bat my eyelashes. "Eldrie M'Tema..." like clockwork he raised an eyebrow at my surname, "welcome back to Qeynos." "Thank you, sir," I grinned back at him, then strode confidently through the gates, waiting ‘til he was well behind me to roll my eyes. "Welcome home, Drie. Let's make some money."

[Eldrie]

<div align="center"><b> One: Illusions</b> </div>  I was never sure if it was my Teir'Dal blood or my Freeportian upbringing that made me sarcastic, but in any case, being back home in Qeynos meant it was time to watch my tongue. Sure, in Freeport you could get stabbed for saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, but in Qeynos it was just as easy to destroy your future with a careless word. Still, I preferred the tree lined streets and fake smiles of Antonia Bayle's homestead to the soot covered, rotting sandstone of the Overlord's domain. Ugly's a lot easier to tolerate when it has a pretty package, I don't care what anyone in Freeport says. At least you can drink the water in Qeynos without boiling it first. Every time I come back home I'm convinced Antonia must have a lot of Koada'Dal on her city planning commission, so lovely is her fair city. Her castle rises gently out of a glassy blue moat, dotted with ferries full of laughing passengers in bright gowns and lovingly polished chainmail. Houses and shops alike cluster below the castle walls, mossy stone cheek to jowl with knotted wood. Most of her guards patrol on foot, taking care to smile at the ladies and nod at the men, lest the citizens think the guards are there to watch them rather than watch out for them. Any mounted Guardsmen ride only white steeds whose metal shoed feet clip-clop soothingly against the paved streets swept clean every morning by city employees paid to keep every major thoroughfare spotless. The city planners have made sure to place neatly manicured islands of green lawns, tall trees, and colorful flowers at regular intervals throughout Qeynos's largest districts. If you spend enough time in Qeynos North and South, it becomes much easier to forgive the broken windows and boarded-up doors that still persist in the outlying residential districts, even though the city's had a good many years to repair them. Perfection is an elaborate and carefully maintained illusion in Qeynos. Most of us who live here know it isn't real. Knowing the city's happiness is an elaborate forgery doesn't make me want to live here any less, though, and I'm sure I'm not alone in that sentiment. Freeport's image is just as much an illusion, but the Hate and Fear seething in every corner of Lucan's city are real enough. Fake smiles might wear out your cheeks, but they don't kill you. I don't mean to sound so bitter. I like Qeynos, I honestly do. But I'm not fooling myself into thinking that we mortals are capable of creating a society that has no dark underbelly. I'm sure Queen Antonia's no fool in that respect either, but she has a duty to fulfill her role as arbiter of Good, and she's very good at it. Her people love her for her ability to put a happy face on everything that happens within her city's walls. I love her for it, too. I wouldn't want her job in a million years, but I'm glad someone's doing it. Back to the business at hand: my sister's jewelry, quietly smuggled into Qeynos at the demand of her richest citizens. Lei's work is exquisite, our customers in Qeynos and Freeport all agree. In Freeport Lei has many admirers, most being Teir'Dal who long for the glory of Lost Neriak she carefully invokes in her work. But her wealthiest and most loyal customers are Qeynosians, those who wish to subtly express displeasure with the city's current administration without endangering their own powerful positions. My sister has created a number of pieces in the pre-War Teir'Dal style for just this market. Being a Teir'Dal herself, though, it's hard for her to market her wares in the Good City, which is where I come in. We Ayr'Dal take a lot of abuse from the purebloods, but they'd probably sing a different tune if they realized just how easy it us for us to go, well, anywhere we want.

[Eldrie]

<div align="center"><b> Two: History</b> </div> Half Teir'Dal, half Fier'Dal: fully a blessing, never a curse, at least not as far as I've ever been concerned. The only thing I hate about my breeding is that I feel compelled to explain it, lest my father be assumed a [Removed for Content] or worse. My parents are definitely an exception to the ordinary dark elf-wood elf ‘pairings.' My mother's name is Thelia. Her parents' names I don't know, since she never liked to talk about them. Their deaths were really hard on her and opening old wounds to learn what amounts to trivia has never seemed worth it, so I never asked. They came to Antonica as refugees shortly before the end of the War of the Fay. They were common blood, not tied to their city like noble blood. While they loved their homeland, they weren't willing to give up their lives for an abstract concept. So they came to Antonica, settling into a small farming village nestled in the hills somewhere or other on the unending plains, and made a good life for themselves with long days, hard work, and blisters. My mother was conceived and born in Antonica on a date unknown to me. At some point after her Declaration of Adulthood (a much less celebrated occasion in those days), my mother moved to a small apartment in Qeynos so she could pursue higher learning and better her family's lot in life. She may have been married during this time, I'm not really sure, though the way she talks about it makes it seem likely. When the Rallosian War began, I know she wanted to go back home to her parents' farmstead, but they made it very clear she was not to leave the city walls. And it's a good thing she didn't, since that small farming village was far enough from the beaten track to avoid notice from the pillaging hordes, but travelers on the road never got so lucky. Unfortunately for her parents, the very thing that kept their town safe during the War was what killed them during the Rending: being on the outer edges of the plains, the very part of the continent that crumbled into the sea when Subtunaria flooded. After every earthquake, flood, and storm, my mother tried to rejoin her parents at their home, but something always stopped her. This is where I think the husband came into play, but I've never dared ask her for confirmation. Either way, my mother was an exceptionally lucky woman, having avoided death at the hands of the Rallosian hordes, falling trees, collapsed buildings, and hungry seas during her lifetime. It's not really a surprise that the rest of her family didn't get quite so lucky. The Age of Cataclysms irreparably altered every facet of Norrath, economy included. I'm sure no one's surprised to hear that farming became far less appealing during an Age of natural disasters. When Antonica became The Shattered Lands, the agricultural map was redrawn and repopulated (massive consolidation of land holdings occurred during this period, allowing for upheavals like the Ironforge family's precipitous climb to the top of the social heap, but that's a story for another time). Some returned willingly to work the land, but most had to be convinced, and convincing took the form of land grants from the city's struggling leadership, who hoped to inspire a steadier food supply and greater loyalty both. Those who had lost land in the Rending were given first dibs on available holdings, though most declined to take Qeynos up on the offer. My mother, however, was not one to let the earth have the last word in her life. She was a child of Tunare, and the earth was going to follow her lead, not the other way around. So she abandoned whatever it was that she had in Qeynos and set out for the Karanas with a group of other families in a similar state. Together they formed a farm community nestled in a foggy valley a day's ride from what became one of Qeynos's busiest outland ports. My father's history bears little in common with my mother's, save for the things all survivors of the Cataclysms share, and the fact that his blood is only marginally less common than my mother's. I know a little more about his ancestors than I do about hers, though. House M'Tema ran a modestly successful merchant operation in Neriak and had since the beginning of the Age of Turmoil, if not before. Careful alliances and complex marriage pacts kept the M'Tema name alive for centuries (since newly married Teir'Dal take the surname of whichever of their houses holds more status in Neriak), allowing them to garner a reputation as honest and reliable businessmen. This reputation, in turn, allowed my great-grandparents to enter my grandmother into service in Innoruuk's church, which in turn would increase the family's reputation even more. Or would have, had my grandmother been the type to care about social status. She rose even higher in the church than her parents had hoped, becoming a High Priestess of Hate, the highest rank one could achieve without approval from the god himself. Much to the chagrin of her family, however, she rejected a position on the city's ruling council and instead joined a band of mercenaries- or adventurers, as we call them today- and quickly rose within its ranks by virtue of her healing skills and quick wit. The mercenary army had members of every race and profession, a fact which Grandmother barely tolerated at first, but soon saw as vital to its success. I spent a lot of time with Grandmother when I was a kid, and she loved to tell me stories about her adventures. I'm not sure I believe them all, but I respected her a great deal and listened intently to the moral she wove into each tale. Usually it was a variation on the idea that racial divisions are meaningless. More than anything else, she believed that mortals could achieve far more when united than when divided. Saying it like that, it seems so obvious, but when you spend a day in Longshadow or Castleview listening to the purebloods talk, you remember how hard it is for Norrath's children to get along. That, she said, was the result of countless years of propaganda created by the gods and dispensed by their priests and prophets. "The gods fear us," she told me time and time again, "but only when we join hands together. They convince us to build walls between us, for our protection they say, but the only ones they protect are themselves." By the end of her life, Grandmother's heart held very little love for the gods, almost as little as she held for one particular mortal woman.

[Eldrie]

<div align="center"><b> Three: Sacrifice</b> </div> <i>Neriak's cramped corridors seemed darker than usual. Rationing for the War was the given excuse, though there was no threat of ever running out of magic to light the city's torches. The War was also the excuse the Queen used when replacing her husband's men on the city guard with her own. If she mourned his death, or her son's, she made no attempt to share her grief with her people. There was certainly no official period of mourning. Though Neriak's population had dwindled since the King had launched a war against the Faydarks, ringing hammers echoed off every wall and dark eyes glinted in every shadow. In the right places you could make out muffled screams, which, though hardly new in Neriak, seemed to have multiplied exponentially since word of the King's death had spread.</i> <i>Etasi walked as quickly as she dared, not wishing to raise suspicion. If she was stopped, she was dead. Queen Cristanos would love to make an example of a "false priestess." Making examples was her favorite pastime these days; you could hear her examples crying out in agony all across the city. Etasi had hoped, then prayed her vocal opposition to the war might assuage the Queen's suspicion she was a traitor; but in the end, Cristanos' faith won out, as it always had. And a High Priestess who preached tolerance of the light races was definitely not a faithful child of Innoruuk.  </i> <i>Rounding the corner, she could see her sister's door, illuminated against the inky shadows that crept in from all directions. This new darkness was awfully convenient in a city suddenly overrun by assassins. But for now, all seemed quiet, thank the gods. She raised her hand to knock on the door, which flew open before her knuckles could kiss the wood.</i> <i>"Tasi, you shouldn't be here," her younger sister hissed. She looked exhausted, even more than she had when her daughter Xeni was born a decade ago. Though she was the younger sibling, motherhood had aged Scelera far more than adventuring had aged her sister. Her violet eyes darted back and forth as she grabbed Etasi's arm and yanked her roughly inside the dimly lit apartment. </i> <i>"Lera, where's Xeni? Varus? Have they finally left Neriak like I've asked?" Etasi surveyed the spotless sitting room before turning her eyes back to her sister, whose stiff shoulders and crossed arms couldn't quite mask the affection in her angular face.</i> <i>Scelera reached up to re-knot her hair, stalling for time. Her sister would not like what she had to say, and she was so tired of arguing. But she'd seen that same focused look on Etasi's face many times before and knew she couldn't get away with staying silent. After a long moment she spoke. "They're with Varus's parents in the Third Gate. House T'Sal has always been loyal to the Queen. They'll be safe there." She turned away, sensing the rebuke that was coming.</i> <i>Etasi opened her mouth to speak. Where to begin? This city wasn't safe for anyone anymore, certainly not an M'Tema, and according to social custom Scelera's husband and daughter were both M'Temas, not T'sals, so sleeping in another House's beds wasn't going to do them any good. Her hands tightened into fists as she thought for the hundredth time how much she hated Cristanos' narrow minded interpretation of Hate. If the Queen wasn't so willfully ignorant, none of this stupid subterfuge would be necessary. Etasi found Errollisi, Mithaniel, Tunare, and the rest just as impotent as the Queen did, but unlike the Queen, she saw the true power of Hate as the ability to embrace the gamut of mortal emotion rather than pretending, like the light races did, that it was possible to live without ever feeling anger or desiring vengeance. Meanwhile the Queen preferred to desperately defend Teir'Dal superiority, as though that had ever accomplished anything in the past. Cristanos hadn't left Neriak in decades...</i> <i>Her internal tirade was cut short by noise from the street outside. Footsteps approached, boots from the sound of it, at least a few pairs. Queen's men, it had to be. She shoved her sister into the darkened kitchen, pushing them both down next to the cold stove. Her stomach filled with icy knots, deepening her resolve to get her sister's family out of Neriak once and for all.</i> <i>They sat wordlessly for some time, until Etasi's knees began to ache and her feet went numb. Something sharp was jabbing into her back, but even though the footsteps had receded into the darkness, she didn't dare stand where she might be seen through the windows, dark as it was. Assassins often lingered in the shadows behind the noisy patrols, preying on the false sense of security so many found in silence. Finally she felt she had no more time to waste on waiting.</i> <i>"Lera," she whispered beseechingly, " you have to go to Varus and convince him to leave this place, and if he won't listen, you have to take Xeni and go without him. He may survive but the two of you won't. You have to leave, and you have to do it right now."</i> <i>"If Varus died, what would that be to you, collateral damage? Is that how you and your friends would describe it? A necessary sacrifice?" Anger tightened Scelera's jaw, clipping her words. "Not all of us are content to live like you do."</i> <i>"Please, Lera, I'm sorry that I've done this to you, I know it's my fault, but now isn't the time to punish me..."</i> <i>Scelera sighed, her anger melting into disappointment. "I wish there were some way I could make you understand, but I can't. I'm sorry Tasi, but even if you're right, I can't leave. What in the name of Hate would I do on the moon, anyway?" Her violet eyes met her sister's emerald gaze, returning every ounce of stubborn will Etasi aimed in her direction. Again they sat in silence, but this time everything that had been left unsaid between them was wordlessly expressed.</i> <i>"Goodbye, big sister. Hate guide you." One quick hug and she was gone, gathering her cloak and slipping out the door, no doubt to rejoin her husband and daughter. She wasn't going to be convinced, not now or ever, that much was plain. It was time to leave. Glowing green strands of energy coalesced there next to the stove as Etasi spoke the words that carried her back to Shadowhaven where she'd bound her spirit's essence for quick escapes just like this one. </i> <i>Two months later, Etasi woke screaming as she felt the most Hateful woman on Norrath snuff out her niece's life, and then her sister's, before she sealed the faithless out of Neriak forever. </i>

[niko_teen]

<p>I really have no idea how  i missed this little jewel of a tale. I haven't have a chance to read the latest post but i will get to it in a bit. I must so far I really to enjoy the way the way that you are able to deal with the racial tensions. So often I see racial epitaths throw into stories, 'racism is bad so all races of north get along,' and I was pleasently suprised not to find that in your story.</p><p>So Keep writting and see what you'll eventually end up. Besides. /wink No one gets worse at writting from doing it, write more and you'll only get better.</p>

[Amethest]

your story has a nice flow to it. makes it very easy to read and become involved. looking forward to more <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /> welcome to travelers tales <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /> you fit right in.

[valkry]

Ok, finally had a chance to catch up on some of the newer stories. Please keep going, even aside from the fact that I am pretty biased towards Breeds, I'm hooked.

[Eldrie]

<div align="center"><b> Four: Work</b> </div> Once my horse was safely in the hands of the stable master, I began to make my way towards the Harbor district. Birds warbled in the trees above as a city steward moved from lamp post to lamp post, extinguishing each with a wave of his mighty pole. Another glorious day had begun in Qeynos. Curtains rose and shutters opened in the windows of the houses on either side of the street. A woman's clear voice rang out in song from somewhere above, as the biggest butterfly I'd ever seen flitted inches from my head. ‘Breeder must've gotten good money for that one,' I muttered to myself, stepping into a doorway to avoid being trampled by two impeccably dressed Kerran children shrieking and chasing one another. For a split second I debated tripping one, ridiculous notions of paid Halfling actors in costume racing through my head. The Queen spent money making the city look good, to be sure, but not that much. Through a great stone archway, the road widened ahead in preparation for traffic headed into the Harbor district. Two guards worked in the oppressive shadow of the Concordium's massive tower, checking papers and waving citizens through the iron gates in both directions. Not for the first time I wished I'd taken a ship directly from Freeport to Qeynos, but I'd done that too much recently as it was, and I was out of official Company business I could use as an excuse to avoid paying for passage. Hearing my approach, the pureblood at the end of the line turned in my direction, smiling thinly as he realized a filthy halfblood was about to stand next to him. He made no move to speak, preferring to let his icy gaze speak for him. Unbeknownst to him, ignoring rude behavior is one of my best skills. "Good morning!" I said in my most cheerful voice, waving vigorously at the now frowning Koada'Dal man. He turned away sharply, brushing his hands over his shirt as though I'd dirtied it simply by speaking to him. I know I shouldn't do it, but I get way too much enjoyment out of pestering purebloods, especially the outwardly prejudiced ones. I feel it makes up for all the time I have to waste listening to the ones who are just friendly enough to think they have the right to insult me and disguise it as small talk. I was in a talking mood, but the pureblood lucked out, and the line moved quickly. Assuming you have the right papers, it's a lot easier to move around inside the city than it is to get inside in the first place. There are rules about who can go where: Far Seas and other trading company employees who don't hold Qeynos citizenship are allowed in the Harbor but nowhere else (much as in Freeport's own port); refugees who live in the outlying districts and have not yet been granted citizenship may travel amongst those districts at will, and to the Harbor on market day; and Queen's wards, or "Bayle Brats" as those orphans are often impolitely called, must stay in the outlying district to which they are assigned. Full citizens may travel at will and are not searched at any interior gate under normal circumstances. Today was market day, meaning the guards were even more lax that usual, under pressure to keep the crowd moving. And what a crowd there was. I knew today's market was going to be busy, but what I saw before me far exceeded my expectations. The street from the gate to the pier was full of people from every "good" race, humbly dressed farmers and finely clad nobles and everything in between. Tall buildings at the end of the curved thoroughfare blocked my view, but a distant cacophony made it clear that every available space on the street and in the square would be occupied by an eager merchant. Days like today made me glad I had connections, or else my chances of finding a place to set up shop would be slim to none. Keeping my eyes on the crowds and my hands firmly on my bag, I began to make my way towards the pier. As I passed Fish's Alehouse, a shuttered window above clattered open. One of Erollisi's Girls leaned out, giggling and wriggling under the hands of some unseen companion. It quickly became obvious that her top was unlaced as she unwittingly put her wares on display for all to see. "Good morning, Qeynos! Erollisi loves you!" she exclaimed in the least sober voice I'd heard since my last visit to the pub below. Grimaces appeared on the faces of numerous passersby. The rambunctious woman's companion pulled her hastily back into darkness, but not before Guardsmen on the street below took note of her position. Most likely today's customer would be the last she'd receive for quite some time. Queen Antonia wasn't stupid enough (or rich enough) to ban prostitution outright in such a busy port, but she didn't appreciate those who exposed the dark underbelly the city didn't officially have. "Lady Eldrie!" A girlish voice rang out over the crowd from the direction of the docks.  It didn't take much effort to see who had shouted: walking towards me and waving was the tallest human woman I'd ever seen. Her strong jaw, broad shoulders, close cropped dark hair, and Qeynos Guard tabard combined to make her very intimidating; at least, when she wasn't smiling like a child on Frostfell morning, as she was now. Between us, a mass of people swelled like winter waves. I decided I'd better stay put and let her come to me. For such a tall woman, she was surprisingly agile, dodging haggard peasant women and stepping lithely around a chain of hand-holding Halflings (praying not to be squished, no doubt). And then she was upon me, her strong arms pulling me tightly into her chainmail-clad bosom. "Ria! Gods you're big. Do you ever stop growing?" I mumbled into her chest. "And why in the name of Marr are you calling me ‘Lady'?" Running into her was a pleasant surprise. "It's good to see you again. Feels like it's been forever!" As she let go of me, she slid her hands down my arms and grasped my own small hands in her large ones. Something small and square pressed into my palm, the exchange deftly disguised as an excitable girl's greeting. I'd taught her well. "So I'm not allowed to tease you now, is that it?" she continued, letting go of my hands and turning to walk with me up the street towards the square. With a discreet flick of my wrist, I tucked the object she'd given me under my belt. More work for the Guard, it seemed, and not the usual kind either, not if they'd gone to so much trouble to hide the assignment. I looked forward to finding a moment alone to examine the object and learn more. The morning sun shone directly into our eyes as we walked, promising an unseasonably warm afternoon with no clouds on the horizon to temper it. Banners bearing the Queen's crest fluttered from atop the city walls, moving enough to create hope that a cool sea breeze might offer salvation from the heat before the day was done. "Your city gets stranger every time I visit," I smirked. "Let's head for my stall? Assuming you want to see what I've brought..." "<i>My</i> city? It's as much yours as it is mine, you just don't want to admit it. If you let on how much you love it here, you wouldn't be able to make all those jokes you're so fond of." She shook her head wryly. "And you know I want to see what you've brought," she added, nudging my bag with her elbow. I glared up at her as indignantly as I could manage, but it was no good. She knew me too well. "You're doing well in the Guard, from the looks of it. Your brothers must be seething with jealousy by now." Her laugh echoed off the towering stone wall, turning heads of passersby who turned away just as quickly once they caught a glimpse of her uniform. "Ryn keeps writing me letters asking for ‘advice,' by which he means I ought to shamelessly harass my superiors ‘til they beg me to send for him, on getting into the Guard himself. James, though, is getting married before summer's end, so it looks like he's going to stay in Rainvale, at least for now." "Brell's hammer, am I really that old? I remember when James was this tall," I held my hand at waist height, "and now he's getting married." I remembered when Ria was even smaller, but to look at her now made it clear how long ago those days had been. Most of the baby fat was gone from her cheeks, and her childhood shyness had been replaced with a confidence known only to those who take their mind and body to their limits and come out intact. I wondered if I'd even be able to best her in close combat anymore. She'd never beat me at archery, but if I went after her with my daggers, she'd probably have me on the ground before I could blink. Good thing I had no intention of ever fighting her. The going was slow as we headed through the final archway leading to the square. Beyond the bank and the far wall, the Queen's castle peered quietly over the walls, as though trying to keep an eye on everyone below without clueing them in. Closer to the center of the square, the Clock of Ak'Anon in all its quirky gnomish glory presided gaily over the bustling marketplace. Normally empty but for a few permanent stalls along its perimeter, today the largest open space in the city was filled to bursting with tents and tables of all sizes and descriptions, presenting every sort of good one might expect in a city as large as Qeynos, and some goods one might never have known existed otherwise. Some shopkeepers had clearly been at work since before daybreak, but most were still setting up. Our destination was a blue tent emblazoned with a stylized illustration of a seahorse masthead, positioned along the most heavily trafficked avenue in the market: right next to the bank. Had our tent not borne the Seastrider logo, we'd probably be in one of the tiny stalls overshadowed by the arena. The Seastriders were one of Qeynos's hardest working merchant families. During the Age of Turmoil, they'd made a modest living as shipbuilders; when that industry crashed after the War, their complex network of ties to other families (most through marriage) kept them afloat, putting them in position for unparalleled success during the ship building boom after the Rending. These days it was hard to bend over in Qeynos without running into a Seastrider. A stocky blonde Breed woman, focused intently on her work, removed small, pegged boards and velvet-lined display shelves from a large crate and carefully laid them out on the table in front of her. Where my features are nothing if not elvish, hers are too human and mark her clearly as a halfblood. She's too stocky to be an elf, but too short to be human; her eyes are round like a human's, but her jaw is round like a Feir'Dal; and her coarse human hair doesn't disguise her pointed ears. I, on the other hand, am all elf, but in an obviously mixed way. My red hair could only have come from a Wood Elf, along with my round cheeks and full lips. My eyes are far too slanted and my jaw too strong for a pureblood, and the cool cast to my skin is what usually clues people in to my Dark Elf blood. It's not an unattractive combination, but it's unusual enough to raise eyebrows. Ama, the Breed under the tent, is much more obviously mixed blood than I am. Maybe that's why I adore her so much. Ama finished arranging the table as we walked up. Her normally serious face lightened greatly when she saw me, and she reached under the table to pull out a medium sized wooden box, made by the same hand as the one I carried in my bag. I placed that one on the table next to the larger one and unlocked both with a key carried around my neck on a silver chain. The larger box I'd brought into Qeynos on a Company ship a month earlier. Usually I preferred to bring goods into the city myself, in order to avoid paying unnecessary shipping fees, but a captain friend of mine owed me a favor, and when Company fees were taken out of the equation, shipping was clearly the better option. Taxes levied on goods arriving on a ship are lower than those added to sales, and you only pay one or the other. The city likes to pretend that tax schedules are created to do us fair citizens a favor, but really they're meant to encourage "illicit" trade between Qeynos and Freeport to stay on the books. The Queen and her council keep a watchful eye on every aspect of the economy. "Drie, glad you're here. I was worried I wouldn't finish settin' up before ya arrived. Tara was supposed ta help me but she's having one of her... episodes today," Ama grimaced. Tara was her younger, much less dependable sister. "And I see you've brought a Guard with you? Ya really oughta be a Seastrider, with all the people ya know." "You have your brother to thank for that," I replied dryly. "Ria here's an old family friend, from Rainvale. Now, who wants to see what I've brought with me?" Both women peered eagerly over my shoulder as I began removing small silk pouches from one of the boxes. Each pouch contained a different piece or set of pieces of jewelry, and once both woman had sufficiently exclaimed over Lei's latest masterpieces, they set to work unpacking pouches, and before long the boxes were empty. "You should sell those!" Ama teased. I rolled my eyes. My boxes got the job done, but they were far from good enough to sell next to Lei's exquisite work. While putting the finishing touches on the display, I noticed that Ria had stopped to examine one particular piece. Slender silver strands twisted together like tree roots to form the ring's band before joining together in the center in the shape of a spreading oak. It was the simplest piece on display, meant for someone who could appreciate the delicate strength of the materials: someone like Ria. She slid the ring onto her middle finger and admired it in the sunlight. "It really suits you, Ria. You should keep it." Surprised, she put her hand down and turned to me. "What? I mean, I do like it, yes, but it's too nice, I can't take it. It's too much." She moved to take the ring off, but I caught her hand in mine before she was got very far. "It's yours, Ria. Just watch out for us," here I looked down at myself significantly, then over at Ama, "and you'll have paid me back more than it's worth."

[AvalonSpirit]

<p><img src="/smilies/385970365b8ed7503b4294502a458efa.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /><img src="/smilies/e8a506dc4ad763aca51bec4ca7dc8560.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /></p><p>i have been lax in catching new sories for me to have something like this slip.  very very nice gem you have here.  please please write more <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /></p>

[SilverclawII]

<p>A good viewpoint that shows that not all Freeport citizens that have come to Qeynos are comfortable with the abundance of smiles and sunshine.</p><p>The main character has, at the same time, a respected view for Queen Antonia, and still a cautious and almost disgusted outlook on the cleanliness and general good-goody appearance of the rest of the city.  And both views are justified in detail.</p><p>A fine piece of work.  Looking forward to reading more.</p>

[Eldrie]

((This next part took a long time to write, because it includes so many of my dear friends, though I've tried to change things around enough that I'm not stepping on their own views of their characters. This chapter is pretty long, so I had to break it up into two posts.)) <div align="center"><b><i>Five: Dusk</i></b> </div> <i>A sea of lights danced before her as she made her way through sandy soil, the occasional patch of dead grass crunching under her boots. Staff strapped to her back, shield on her arm, and in her platemail, she might've made an imposing figure had she not been so weary. She carried very little aside from a small bag tossed over her shoulder. </i> <i>The sun had disappeared beyond the horizon awhile ago, but enough light remained in the sky to outline the tent city that had sprung up under Freeport's Commonland gate. The Ro gate was closed and had been since word of the Rallosians' advance began to spread, so any who sought protection past the city walls gathered here, waiting for their turn to speak to the overwhelmed gate guards. The Militia seemed to be taking their time processing the refugees, no doubt using the opportunity to "encourage" the youngest and most able to join their ranks. She hoped they realized how little time they had left. Even though a mountain range separated the Commonlands from the deserts of Ro, the barrier between the two city gates was a mere stone wall. Any safety offered on this side of the wall was an illusion, one which wouldn't withstand the battle to come. If the Militia didn't get these people inside the city walls in time, they'd have to put down a riot and fend of the Rallosians at the same time, hardly an appealing proposition.</i> <i>The sand gave way with a satisfying thud as she sank to the ground next to the city wall, past the tents and close to the gate. The thought of sleeping in her armor made her grimace, but she was loathe to take it off, seeing as she had no way of securing it. If she'd brought a horse... but she couldn't have put a locked chest on a horse's back, and anyway she would have lost the animal to the Militia as payment for getting inside, she was sure. Still, the walk here from Nektulos had taken longer than she'd intended. She leaned her head back against the stone and closed her eyes, hoping the low murmur of nearby conversation would lull her to sleep. Muscles creaked and popped, joints settled, fists unclenched as darkness began to creep over her. And then, just as her breathing began to slow, a faint green light crept into her eyes.</i> <i>"She's here somewhere," a familiar voice floated to her ears, "most likely alone. We need to find her before she disappears into the crowd." She knew that voice almost as well as her own. Her plan had worked more quickly than she'd dared hope.</i> <i>"Raie?" she called, and then again, louder. Footsteps to her left, walking now, then running. Two pairs, both eager. She looked up as they stopped abruptly next to her. The green light glowed as brightly as a torch, but the jade shadows didn't keep her from recognizing the faces hovering over her. A white haired Feir'Dal woman, clad in golden leather, stood next to a Teir'Dal man, also white haired, and robed in blue. They looked old and young at the same time, eyes too wise for their unlined faces. They both bore a perpetual smile, usually faint, now in danger of cracking their cheeks. The woman fell upon her before she could stand, hugging her fiercely, saying nothing. Etasi hugged her back just as hard.</i> <i>"Raie knew you were here, Tasi. I'm glad she was right," the man said as the pair helped her to her feet. His voice was soft but powerful, capable of saying more with a whisper than most could with a shout. Etasi couldn't remember ever hearing him raise his voice; he left that to his brother.</i> <i>"Lord D'Byss," she addressed him in her most formal voice, offering him her hand. He stood unmoving, appraising her, before both burst into laughter and hugged the other. Their embrace was shorter than the one she'd shared with Raie, though no less affectionate. Raie picked up Etasi's bag with one hand and put the other arm around her waist while Davin, as the Teir'Dal was known when his friends weren't teasing him, led them towards the gate. The guards tried to protest, but Davin merely glared at them and they were able to enter the city unmolested. "Gotta love having an enchanter on your side," she grinned to Raie, who stifled a giggle.</i> <i>Freeport</i><i> had never seemed so eerie as it did now. Aside from their small party, the only people on the streets were Militia patrols, far more numerous now than they'd ever been. </i> <i>"If you can hold a sword or a shield without breaking your arm, you either join the Militia or stay outside the walls," Davin responded to her unspoken query. "Every day we think they'll give up on the policy, but every day they prove us wrong. Clearly they see no problem with waiting ‘til the last minute take care of things." His voice was uncharacteristically bitter. The glowing green gem atop Raie's staff lit their way as the trio followed winding streets towards the city center, finally stopping in front of a house that had clearly seen better days. Perhaps it had once been home to a well to do merchant or a member of the lesser nobility; now the first floor windows were boarded up, the roof was in dire need of patching, and half the fence around what remained of the yard was missing entirely. She suspected the missing boards had been used to construct the smaller house squeezed like a parasite between this one and its neighbor. Freeport had always tended towards slum, and now that war preparations took precedence over housing inspections, it was no surprise how quickly codes ceased to be followed. She didn't want to imagine what it was like in the outer, poorer districts.</i> <i>Davin turned to her apologetically before they entered. "With such short notice..."</i> <i>She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "You could put me in a tent in the yard and it would be better than where I was sleeping before you two found me. Don't even try to apologize."</i> <i>The front room was dark, though she could make out the shape of large armchairs covered with sheets. Crates of supplies lined the wall towards the hallway, where light emanated from a back room. As they passed the staircase leading towards the second floor, Raie nudged her. "I'm going to put your bag upstairs. Women are up there, men are in the basement." Etasi nodded as the other woman scurried away.</i> <i>"Look who I found!" Davin called brightly as they entered the back room. A long table was set up, surrounded by people eating, drinking, reading, and playing at cards. Most of the chairs were full, and most of the people in them seemed happy, save the one or two that would remain serious at a naked gnome race. She had expected her friends to come here, hence her long and painful journey, though she hadn't expected to see so many. Even so, the dozen or so before her now was a far cry from the small army they used to have, back in their adventuring days. It'd been so long since she'd talked to any of them; after the War of the Fay called so many home, they'd been spread out across Norrath. Sadness flooded her as she thought of Kindo, Raven, and Kahli, her greatest allies on the field aside from Raie. Priestesses of Tunare to the last, and her most trusted friends. The three of them had made their way back to Faydwer to defend their homes from Neriak's legions, and while she hoped all three remained there now, she knew they'd have felt the call of duty just as strongly as the rest. Qeynos was lucky to have those women on their side.</i> <i>"Tasi!" came the cry from around the table, and then she was surrounded, hugged and clapped on the back from every side at once. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried from happiness instead of sadness, but she was crying now.</i> <i>"We smell that bad, huh?" Lys cracked, taking a sip from her wine glass. "The wine's good, stick your nose in that instead." The auburn haired human woman could drink you under the table just as easily as she could put an arrow in your eye from 300 paces. Etasi was thrilled to see her, and more than a little surprised to find that the human hadn't aged a bit, even though by now most of her generation was dead. Darian had obviously become more powerful over the years.</i> <i>Ayra, a diminutive Teir'Dal rogue, helped Etasi unbuckle her armor while another dark elf woman, this one a muscular knight (and also the best cook any of them had ever met) called Destroyer, handed her a glass of wine. Then, once free of the armor that had begun to feel as though it weighed a hundred stone, she sat with a sigh at the table and listened with a quiet smile while her friends resumed their earlier conversations.</i> <i>Davin sat with G, a human so massive he looked at first glance like a Barbarian, though his build was not nearly bulky or wide enough. In reality, he was an ogre, though Davin had long ago made him an amulet that allowed him to appear human. Originally this had been done to make it easier for the great warrior to get around, but now that Freeport was about to face an army led by ogres, the enchantment was a necessity. Next to Davin sat Nari, a Koada'Dal wizard and longtime friend of the enchanter. The two shared a great love for obscure arcane facts and a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. Two other wizards, one a human named Lach, the other a Koada'Dal named Tere, also sat at the table. Lach was boisterous and talkative where Tere was quiet and serious, though she had plenty to say once you gained her trust. A Breed man stood in the corner nursing his drink, partially obscured by shadow, listening to Raie, Lys, Destroyer, and Ayra talk. It was rare to see Zel so silent; apparently the wine was as good as Lys had claimed.</i> <i>Etasi chose a chair across from a hooded Erudite. Of all those seated at the table, she knew him best of all. He was a mysterious figure, and no one knew his real name or his true race. Usually he called himself Echols, and appeared as an Erudite, though some knew him as Morrow the Barbarian, who wielded a dagger where his alter ego held a staff. His power as an enchanter rivaled Davin's; the two together seemed an unstoppable force. He claimed his peculiar name came from childhood, when he'd insisted on being called Echo; and then one day when marking a book as his possession, terrible penmanship had changed an apostrophe into and "L" and ruined his clever nickname altogether. She and Echols had gone on many missions together in the past, for although their skills weren't entirely complementary, they had an uncanny way of knowing what the other needed. Etasi had missed his mischievous face, though she hadn't realized how much until it was staring back at her.</i> <i>"Thanks for not making a liar of me," he said as she took a long awaited sip of wine. Seeing her confused look, he continued. "I told them you'd come. We all thought you would, but I was the only one who said anything. So, thanks."</i> <i>"You know I'd never let you down," she replied, wistfully. "I'm just glad you're wearing a face I can still recognize." In response he leaned towards the table and pushed the hood from his head. When he looked back up, he was a Teir'Dal. "Ugh, you know I hate it when you do that." The laughter in her voice made a liar out of her. He winked and took her hand from across the table.</i> <i>Footsteps echoed in the hall as someone ascended the stairs leading from the basement. She knew who it was before she saw him; there was only one person who'd be in this house that had the power to lower everyone's voice with the mere promise of his presence. As she turned in her chair to face the doorway, there stood Darian, dark hair pulled back from his face, dark eyes as intense as they'd always been. The lack of lines on his human face was testament to his great power, which had also apparently kept Lys alive longer than most humans could dream of living. Just like Davin, he looked young and old simultaneously: young enough to be capable of anything, old enough to demand one's respect. And respect was something he earned in spades. Everyone in the room was there because they respected Darian immensely. Etasi, like the rest, would follow any order he gave, go to the ends of the earth if he asked it, and trust she'd come back safely because he had promised it. He was her mentor and the greatest priest she'd ever known, even though he was an apostate who'd left the Temple of Life years before she'd ever met him. His power as a healer was unparalleled, and his skill as a leader was greater still. He and Davin, brothers even though unrelated by blood, were like two sides of the same coin, twins and opposites all at once, both charismatic leaders and tactical masterminds. Darian gave most of the orders while Davin preferred to lead by example, though they were equally skilled at finding and solving problems on the field.</i> <i>Darian's intense face broke into a grin when he saw her sitting there, though he didn't seem surprised to see her. Echols was right: they'd all known she'd come, probably even before she had. "Tasi," he nodded in her direction, before continuing to the head of the table. "You got here just in time to hear my stunning plans." Just like his brother, Darian excelled at sarcasm. He sighed and leaned against the table with both hands.</i> <i>"We're going to be outnumbered, both by the Rallosians and by commoners. Skilled fighters are going to be in very short supply on our side. Lucan will protect his own hide instead of worrying about any of ours, and I doubt we can count on the Militia, since most of their members are so green they hold their shields backwards." His words were grimmer than his expression as he addressed them, and she could tell that even in these dark times he had faith in their ability to survive the challenges ahead. "We're going to have to find the strongest part of the line we can, and do our best to prepare the commoners who stand with us in whatever time we have. I'd love to say we'll take out the General himself, but I'd be happy enough to take down one of his underlings. Confusion," he looked at Davin and Echols, "is really the greatest weapon we have. We'll try to get Zel and Ayra past the Rallosian line so they can do some damage to their leadership. Lys and Lach will hang back and stop as many direct threats to the city walls as quickly as they can. G and Destroyer will break us through the line, while Tasi, Raie and I keep them alive, and Echols, Davin, Nari and Tere protect us as best they can. We're not going to save the city on our own, but no one's going to be able to say we didn't try." With that, he took a deep breath, and when he looked up, his eyes were full of fire. "Other than that, all we can do is pray." Destroyer handed him a glass of wine. "And have some wine, of course." With that, he sat, and had a drink. A wave of fierce nods swept down the table. His plan was simple enough, but the most important part of the message was the confidence in his voice, which infected them all. </i>

[Eldrie]

<div align="center"><i>(Five, continued)</i> </div><i> Most of her friends retired to bed after another drink. Ayra helped her bring her armor upstairs and set it on a rack near an empty bed. "We're lucky to be up here, away from G's snoring, if you ask me," the smaller woman smirked.</i> <i>As she tried to settle into bed, something Darian said nagged at her. She could hear him and Davin talking quietly downstairs, and slipped back down the darkened hall to the common room. Davin was just heading down to the basement as she stepped through the door. "Night, Tasi," he called over his shoulder. She took the seat closest to Darian, who was looking at her expectantly, and tried to find the right words.</i> <i>"Darian," she began, tentatively, "you told us we ought to pray, and it seemed like more than just sarcasm for once. But I don't see how, after all this time, you can see any good in it. I know you believe, like I do, in the words of Zebuxurok. I know you think we mortals can have the power of the gods if only we find the way. So why should we bother to pray?" Normally she wouldn't have bothered him with something so trivial, especially something that could have been a joke, but tonight it felt important. Tonight it felt like the most important thing of all.</i> <i>It took him a few moments to speak, and when he did, his voice was low and serious. "You're right, Tasi, I don't believe in the power of the gods any more than you do these days." He gave her a poignant look, knowing how deeply she'd raged over her sister's death so many years ago, and that she'd never found a way to forgive it. "But the people out there do. We could talk to them all day and night about Zeb and it wouldn't do us any more good than reading them import regulations in Old Erudian. The gods mean something to the people we're going to fight next to. Maybe faith won't help you or I anymore, but if we're exceedingly lucky, maybe it'll help them. I've prayed for that every night since I heard the news, and I'll keep praying until the Rallosians are at our doorstep."</i> <i>The two sat in silence for awhile, lost in their own thoughts. Finally he pushed back his chair, squeezed her shoulder, and went in search of his bed. She sat at the table alone, watching the candles burn down into nubs. At first she was angry: angry for all the injustices the gods had allowed, angry that the gods had labored so hard to keep mortals from finding common ground, angry that even after withdrawing from the world, the gods kept finding new ways to make their lives miserable. Most of all, she was angry that Darian was right. Etasi sat for a long while, and when the last candle had dwindled down to nothing, so had her anger, and she began to pray.</i> <i>"Gods above, though I have not spoken to most of you in many years, and though I have never spoken to others, I hope you will hear me now as I offer myself to you, your humble servant.</i> <i>"Erollisi, may you guide us to understand those who will stand next to us in battle, so that we may protect even those who have done us wrong, that we may take up arms in the name of what is right;</i> <i>"Karana, may you help us to weather the coming storm, so that we might live to feel your blessed tears upon our faces;</i> <i>"Quellious, may you lead us to peace instead of anger, so that we might put down those who wish to destroy us and the calm we have found these many years;</i> <i>"Tunare, may you show us the way to create life from death, so that all those who shall soon die do not do so in vain, but rather so we may find good in this spectacular evil;</i> <i>"Cazic, may you show our enemies the fear they seem to lack;</i> <i>"And Marr, above all, may you give us the strength to hold our swords, the courage to look our enemies in the eye, and the honor to fight and die in the name of life."</i> <i>All the gods she had named, she knew she might one day forgive, despite all they had allowed under their watch. But there was one she would never forgive.</i> <i>"Of you, my lord Innoruuk, I make no request, but instead I ask of you a question. Is this what you wanted for us, your children? All those of us who saw the greater glory in Hate, who strove to free ourselves from weakness, who sought to embrace darkness as well as light so that we might find our way to a higher existence, was our work in vain? Your word has spread throughout the land, and hate resides in the heart of every mortal, but not the glorious Hate you asked us to preach. Instead you have given us a petty hate and cursed us to destroy ourselves and all we hold dear. If this is the victory you have sought all these many years, it is one I want no part of. Lord Innoruuk, I forsake you. I cast aside your Hate, though my hatred for you shall live forever. I forsake you. I forsake you. I forsake you."</i> <i>With that she got up and went to bed, and slept a deep and dreamless sleep for the first time in many years.</i>

[SilverclawII]

<p>Ah, chapter five is a nice addition.  I can see the effort you made to make this just right and portray such a variety of characters.</p><p>I have to admit, I lost track of who "She" was in the second part of the chapter.  It is Etasi, right?  I think it'd be a good thing to mention her name again somewhere later.  Perhaps when she's about to pray?</p><p>The prayer sounded good and is a nice hook.</p><p>Do keep writing!</p>

[Eriol]

An exquisite writing style.  I'm a bit disappointed that you and your characters seem to have such a jaded view on the world of Norrath, but the feeling is certainly always "there" no matter what. I will keep reading.

[Eldrie]

<p>Thanks a lot for your comments! It really helps to see how other people view my work.</p><p>Silverclaw, I'll go over that last chapter and make it easier to figure out who's being referred to.</p><p>As far as my characters being jaded: My primary objective when I started out, besides defining a background for all my many characters, was to describe things we don't always hear about, stuff like taxes, economics, and most of all, the perspective of those who are "common blood," ie the farmers and merchants and others who never go out adventuring, but who work hard to make Norrath and her cities into the places we know them as. I hope to explore these ideas more when I get into the story of Eldrie's parents. The more I write, the more I get led away from that concept, but it was my starting place.</p><p>I suppose both characters are pretty jaded during the times I've described so far (though I see Eldrie less as jaded and more as having a unique perspective, which will become more obvious once she goes to Freeport), but if you give them some time, that may change. <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" /></p><p>Anyway, big thanks to everyone who's read my story! It feels good to finally be writing it out after having it floating around in my head for so long. </p>

[Jnom]

Just wanted to add my awe to the rest. You have a way with dialogue and paragraphs that I envy.

[Eldrie]

<div align="center"><b><i>Six: Dawn</i></b> </div> <i>Morning came early, bright and warm and pleasant, and seeming so very out of place in a city on the brink of war. Over breakfast, Etasi caught up with her friends. She was the last to arrive; no others were expected. She pieced together that Darian and Lys had arrived in Freeport first, upon hearing of the attack on Gukta. Davin, Nari, and Ayra came shortly after. Both brothers had been on their guard since the attack on the Nexus, neither imagining that such an unprecedented event would be without greater implications. They'd maintained contact with many of their "soldiers," as Etasi and the others jokingly referred to themselves, and were able to inform them of their plans to stand and fight in Freeport. Others, like Etasi, had come simply because they felt the call of duty and knew their friends would have, too.</i> <i>Having heard Darian's plan, such as it was, now it was time to prepare. Echols and Davin discussed the best way of distracting so many enemies at once, the wizards debated the merits of working together or choosing targets alone, Zel and Ayra labored for long hours preparing poisons for their daggers, and G and Destroyer sparred all afternoon in the front yard. As for the priests, they divided their duties: Etasi and Raie would watch G and Dest', while Darian safeguarded the rest. Healing the mighty ogre was something the two women had done in countless battles over the years and were well prepared to do again, though both acutely felt the absence of Kindo, Raven, and Kahli. If those three had been here, the gods themselves would have to strike G down, for no mortal would be able to do so. But they weren't here, and there was no sense dwelling on what might have been. Raie and Etasi spent the day in quiet preparation. </i> <i>Though none of them knew for sure when battle would come, there was an electricity in the air that night as they tried to sleep. The Rallosians would be here very soon. Etasi was not the only one who spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. Morning was slow in coming, but finally the sun crept over the horizon, and just as daylight arrived, so did war.</i> <i>"AWAKE, loyal citizens! The time for glory is upon us!" Lucan's voice boomed throughout the city thanks to the Academy's magic. "Follow the orders of the Militia if you wish to survive."</i> <i>Everyone in the house was on their feet immediately, donning their gear with ease like the seasoned veterans they were. The plate wearers were helped into their armor by the mages, while Raie, clad as always in her golden leather, brought ‘round coffee and a plate of fruit and bread Destroyer had prepared the night before. Etasi donned her dusty violet plate, took up her simple shield, and hoisted her staff. It was a strange staff, Luclin-forged, and as tall as she was, with a wooden haft kinked curiously at the end, its head a wide, white "U" rounded on the outside and sharply cornered on the inside, both ends coming to sharp points. Though it was good for little more than the occasional awkward bludgeoning, Etasi had relied on it for many years. She called it "Answer": for every priest is called upon in the prayers of his flock, and every priest must have an Answer for those they guide. Once Answer was in her hand, she was ready. And then it was time to go.</i> <i>The streets were filled with people, most of them unarmed civilians being herded by the militia towards the heavily fortified city center. G led them through the crowd, two by two, his bulk and his massive greatsword parting the sea of panicked faces.  As she walked, Etasi felt for the knot of power at her center, coaxing it to unravel, sending tendrils of tingling energy down to her toes and fingers. With every breath, the knot grew larger and easier to manage, aided in part by Echols' presence next to her. He and Davin had begun their spells before they'd left the house, each man entwining his companions in an enchantment that allowed them greater control over the power they'd all worked long years to cultivate.  After a few moments, Etasi began her own work, blessing each of her friends with courage, and an invisible shield that made each a little harder for their enemies to strike. She couldn't do as much for them as she would have liked, but she had to keep most of her power in reserve. Raie and Darian would be doing the same; together their wards ought to make a difference. By the time they got to the main gate, Etasi's companions seemed brighter in her eyes, while everything around them grew dull. When she turned her mind to each person, she could see them without looking at them, having connected them to herself with the blessings she'd bestowed.</i> <i>Darian led them once they'd passed through the gates, searching for the best place to make their stand. The line had formed a good distance from the walls, though the Militia hung back, shadowed by the stone. A faint roar filled her ears, and when she looked to the horizon, it seemed as though the horizon itself was moving closer and closer, though she knew the black cloud in the distance must be the Rallosian army. Lucan was parading back and forth in front of the assembled Freeportians on his armored black destrier, surrounded by a faint aura of flame. Etasi turned away; she wasn't interested in his showy attempts to instill courage in the crowd. She concentrated instead on the men and women making up the line. Judging by the way they carried themselves, there were more skilled fighters present than Darian had hoped, though the ratio of experienced soldiers to nervous commoners was still very low. Their band stopped a ways from the center where Lucan was prancing around, behind a group of young, strong, and, considering the circumstances, well-armed men. They were green to the last, it was blindingly obvious, but they looked able enough. Darian turned his head slightly and gave them all a nearly imperceptible nod. It was showtime. They formed two perfect rows behind the assembled fighters as Darian made his way to the front of the crowd.</i> <i>"If you've never fought before, or if you're unsure, I implore you to listen to what I have to say," Darian began, his voice made louder by Davin's magic. "My soldiers and I," he pointed at us, "have fought together for many years and survived countless battles. We have faced enemies far greater than those we shall fight today. I ask you to follow my command so that we all may live. But first, let us pray." He asked them all to kneel with a gesture, and when everyone within earshot did so, Etasi smiled to herself. The prayer was a ploy to see how many would listen, and when so many did, it became clear Darian had chosen a good place for them. Once the prayer was finished, he called G and Destroyer to his side. The two warriors stepped forward, knelt at Darian's feet, and said in unison, "At your command, my lord." This too was a show, the same as when Lys and Lach saluted and marched in the direction of the wall to take up their place well behind the line of soldiers. G took one half of those Darian now commanded, Dest' the other, and both did their best to mold the inexperienced mass into something resembling an army. "Please, follow me!" she heard G command, his voice as pleasant as always. It was a wonder anyone felt threatened by him, though of course his huge sword and exceptional skill in battle made him fearsome regardless of his tone of voice.</i> <i>Etasi and Raie, meanwhile, extended their blessings to all these new soldiers, though with less strength than they'd given their companions. Neither woman wished to spread her power too thin, especially over those they knew they could not protect from death. As much as Etasi wished she could keep every one of these wide eyed children alive, she had to concentrate on her companions and let fate handle the rest.</i> <i>They could make out the details of the Rallosian horde now: ogres and orcs, some mounted but most on foot, with more giants behind them than any of them had ever seen in the deserts of Ro. The giants would need to die first, she knew, and she could see G and Dest' telling their men as much: aim for the ones who can destroy the city's walls. The ground began to rumble under their feet. They could see bloodlust and a complete absence of fear on the Rallosians' faces. They could hear the battle chants growing louder. Some of the men in front of her began to shake.</i> <i>"They wish to destroy us, but we will not let them!" Darian called, doing his best to distract the men from their growing desire to turn and run. "They wish to show us that Rallos is the most powerful god of all, but is he? No! We know the truth: Rallos is weak in comparison to the combined powers of the gods who protect us!" The Rallosians were not stopping; there would be no meeting between Urduuk and Lucan, no observance of the rules of war. The Rallosians meant to walk right over them. The sound of their marching filled her ears. She saw a few men in the distance break from the line and flee for the city walls, but Darian's men held. "Hold the line!" Darian cried. "Let them come to us!" Arrows began to fly over Etasi's head, striking the leading Rallosians. Lys's voice roared behind them. No doubt she'd killed more Rallosians already than most in front of her would manage during the course of the battle. In spite of their losses, the horde didn't stop. It didn't even slow down; in fact, the ordered march had broken down, and the hordes were charging them at full speed. Those who fell to the archers' arrows were simply trampled. The Rallosians were nearly upon them now. Etasi closed her eyes. ‘Deep breath... you can do this. You can win this.' G's image burned in her mind brighter than the sun. Her eyes opened. They were here.</i> <i>The two armies met with such violent force that all the air between them was pushed out, knocking the Freeportians back. For a moment, she was deaf, struggling to breathe... and then an ocean of noise swept over her. G and Destroyer pushed forward. Swords met shields, axes met meat. A downward thrust, a parry, a mace sent flying through the air still held by its owner's hand. Bodies now, under their feet, blood in their eyes, screams in their ears. It was too much, how could they fight it all, how could they stay together? Raie took Etasi's hand. An orc came close, then stumbled away, mind clouded by Echols' magic. Two ogres fell to the ground, melting together in a raging inferno raised at Tere's command. The fire sucked the air from their lungs, silencing their screams, and the magical flames didn't spread beyond their charred bodies.</i> <i>Still they kept coming, one after the other. Etasi felt like she was caught in a riptide, being pushed out into an endless sea. The untested men around her fell one after the other, until it seemed that none would survive. Their neat line buckled, shattering into a thousand pieces. Etasi closed her eyes as Raie squeezed her hand. G's image, burning brightly in her mind... a dagger tried to pierce the unprotected joint at his shoulder, but she did not let it. Flesh tore and grew anew. Another attacker, another, another, she pushed them all away. Tendrils of magic leapt from her fingertips into G's body, bridging every gap in skin and vein. When she failed, Raie succeeded; when she was too late, Raie was already there. When G was safe, they looked to Dest. Her power began to wane. "Echols!" she cried, but if the words escaped her lips she could not tell, for the sound of battle drowned out her voice. Still, he answered, and again power surged through her. Countless Rallosians fell at G's hand, and Tere's as well. Destroyer fell back, in search of Darian and the rest, who'd been swept away somewhere behind them. It seemed like they fought for hours, though if it was really that long, Etasi could not say.</i> <i>Raie squeezed her hand, but this time it was not for reassurance. This time it was fear. Etasi opened her eyes. To her right, an orc, far too close. With a few more strides his sword would be at her throat. G and Dest were both surrounded, busy. Flames rose up to her left; Tere was busy too. Etasi did the only thing she could: she planted her staff in the ground, knelt behind it, and waited.</i> <i>"DIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!!" the orc screamed as he charged, but his voice was so high, and his lips weren't moving. Belatedly she realized it was her voice. She was the one screaming. The orc stumbled. Echols had gotten to him, made his limbs heavy, ungainly. The orc was almost on top of her now. He fell; he was going to crush her. Answer was nearly ripped from her hands as the orc careened into her staff, the sharp inner edges of the "U" shape cutting wickedly into his throat. Blood poured down on her head like rain. She couldn't hold his weight, so when the orc fell to the ground, so did she, her shoulder twisting painfully. Raie and Echols pulled her to her feet as she wrenched her staff from the dead orc's neck. Another orc charged in to take the dead one's place, but this time, shadows swirled at his back and thick, dark blood gushed from his mouth as he fell victim to Zel's poisoned daggers.</i> <i>Etasi turned back to G. His image still burned in her mind, but it was fading. She realized he was lying on the ground. Zel swirled over him like wind, his daggers cutting through orc after orc, allowing none to get close enough to kill his brother in arms. Etasi ran to G's side, followed closely by Raie. Time seemed to slow: Echols' work. Tere raised a wall of energy around them while Echols created an enchantment in hopes of making them an unappealing target. Blood pooled under G's leg, where a spear had pierced his thigh. A vicious weapon, it had been strong enough to tear through armor and flesh alike. Her most fervent hope at that moment was that the spear was not enchanted or poisoned. If it was, she might not be able to save him. Priests can only heal ailments they can understand, and poisons are notoriously difficult to get a grasp on, especially in the heat of battle. Etasi put her hand on G's shoulder, pushing a wave of energy into his body through her palm. She could feel it race through his blood to the wound, where she built a barrier to keep both blood and magic from escaping. Raie chanted beside her. The wound was simple, she could see it all now, drawn in blue light on the back of her eyelids. She could fix it. Time seemed to stop as they worked, and she could not say how long it took to finish the healing, but when she opened her eyes again, the battle had moved past them. Zel had disappeared, no doubt in search of Darian and the rest.</i> <i>Raie sucked in her breath audibly as she stood and looked towards the city. Bodies were everywhere, and parts of bodies, and weapons, and blood, blood more than anything. Giants were attacking the walls with boulders. How could the giants be so close to the city? Her group hadn't even gotten near a giant yet. Etasi could barely feel the rest of her companions when she tested her connection to them. They were alive, she thought, but far away. The city's defense was overwhelmed. </i> <i>"Gods be good..." G's voice, low and weak. Etasi turned, and what she saw nearly knocked her feet from under her. The Avatar of War was on the field, giant flaming sword in hand. "We have to stop it," G growled, the angriest she'd ever heard him. The man sounded like he wanted to invite you over for tea even when he was about to cut your head off. He must be furious now, if the politeness had vanished from his voice. She wanted nothing more than for the five of them to vanquish their mighty foe, but they wouldn't stand a chance. Suddenly there was a commotion from the south: the Ashen Order, clearly marked by their distinctive headbands, was rushing into battle, one man leading their charge on the Avatar.</i> <i>Events moved so quickly after the monks' arrival that Etasi later had a hard time keeping the sequence straight in her mind. The Avatar fell to the monks, and a great green cloud descended on the battlefield, killing the remaining Rallosians with an eerie silence. Lucan rushed out, picked up Soulfire somehow, led the Militia against the Order of Marr, which made no sense, not now, not when Freeport was so badly wounded.</i> <i>G led them back towards the city: Raie, Echols, Tere, and Etasi, all consumed by thoughts of their companions. As the crumbling city walls grew larger, and the field more difficult to navigate thanks to fallen friends and foes, a strange thought filled Etasi's mind. Was her brain addled by stress and exhaustion? Maybe. But maybe the gods had answered her prayers. True, the answer had not come in the form any of them had hoped for, but maybe these people had died for a reason. So much work lay ahead of all of them: walls, houses, lives had to be rebuilt. Maybe this war was the thing that would finally drive mortals to realize how much they needed to rely on each other. Maybe the horrors perpetuated by the Rallosians would push them past their differences. If such a thing were to happen, it was going to take a lot of hard work and a lot of faith. And though it was inexplicable to her, as she stared across the field of broken bodies, Etasi felt her faith returning.</i>

[Eldrie]

And just to help with the imagery a little bit, this is the sig I used for ages when I played Etasi: <a href="http://img211.imageshack.us/img211/9197/etasieu5.jpg" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://img211.imageshack....pg" border="0"></a> Her surname was Answer in game, but in the interest of continuity I gave her back her original surname, M'Tema, for my story, since that's the surname that's persisted throughout the ages and has been passed down to Eldrie and her sisters.

[Eriol]

You have a knack for telling exactly the right amount in combat.  It's easy to see some writers showing too much, or some too little, but you've nailed it for a flowing pace of combat.  Well done.  I hope when these topics come up in my own writing that I can do as well (it's a slight weakness of mine).

[Amethest]

very nice work . you hold the interest and it flows nicely . I enjoyed it very much . thanks <img src="/smilies/3b63d1616c5dfcf29f8a7a031aaa7cad.gif" border="0" alt="SMILEY" />

[SilverclawII]

<cite>Eriol wrote:</cite><blockquote>You have a knack for telling exactly the right amount in combat.  It's easy to see some writers showing too much, or some too little, but you've nailed it for a flowing pace of combat.  Well done.  I hope when these topics come up in my own writing that I can do as well (it's a slight weakness of mine).</blockquote>I agree wholeheartedly.  I've never written about a large scale battle, probably never will.  Good use of familiar EQ2 lore, and a very nice addition.  Ends very nicely.  Do I sense a trip back to the present coming?

[Eldrie]

<p>The present, or at least the nearer-past, is indeed where I'm heading next. This weekend I have 4 days to sit outside in the sun and write, so more is coming soon!</p><p>I'm glad you guys liked the battle scene. That was the most difficult thing for me to write so far, so I'm glad it turned out okay.</p>

[Eldrie]

<div align="center"><b> Seven: Sailing</b> <div align="left"> Rain fell in sheets so heavy it seemed as though sea and sky conspired to drown us. Droplets pelted my head as hard as hail and careened off of every surface on the ship ‘til water ran off the deck like a raging river. Thunder growled angrily over our heads, and immediately afterwards lightning struck to starboard once, then twice, casting sickly shadows on the crewmen running in every direction at their captain's command. I knew I should be running with them, but my body refused to obey, and I knew that if I tried to walk my knees would give out beneath me.  My hands had gone numb with cold ages ago, and were now frozen into claws, gripping the rail for dear life. The ship seemed to rock more violently with every passing minute and I grew convinced I was seconds away from going overboard. "Captain!" yelled a man to my left, pointing at something in the distance. It was so dark I could barely make out his hand, much less what he was so frantic about. Lightning struck again, closer this time, illuminating for the briefest instant the towering black wave headed directly for our port side. The captain saw it too, and a tinge of desperation came to his powerful voice as he bellowed orders more quickly, hoping he and his men would be able to turn the ship in time to keep us from capsizing. But it was too dark and we'd seen our fate too late. The wave roared with a fury like I'd never heard, sucking all other sound out of the world. For a moment it seemed to hover over us, unmoving, granting us a reprieve; and then I was underwater, fighting frantically to find air, but I couldn't tell up from down or left from right. My chest burned, panic filled me and pushed the last of the oxygen from my lungs, and then everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was warm. I could see the ship, but it was in the distance now, sailing out of the storm and into the light of day. It seemed to hover in front of me, all shades of black and grey, strangely static. I rubbed my eyes and realized I was lying in bed, and the ship wasn't a ship at all, it was a drawing hanging on a parchment on the wall. No, it wasn't a parchment, it was flesh, and it wasn't on the wall, it was closer than that: a tattoo spanning the back of the man sitting up next to me in bed. I knew that tattoo well- I'd drawn it. I knew the man even better. I blinked again. "You're back," I mumbled, still half asleep. "I missed you." I tried not to let emotion creep into my voice and failed miserably. I sat up and reached for him, but he stood and walked away without saying a word or looking in my direction. The cabin door slammed shut, and I was left alone, my bed gently rocking as the waves swelled beneath us. The happiness I'd felt a moment before turned to something dark that rose up in my throat, choking and consuming me. I woke up, the scent of salt and wood and tar filling my nostrils. My tiny cabin was dark and the rough woolen blankets from my bed had all wound up on the floor. I sat up with a sigh, not bothering to light the lantern hanging on the wall to my right. My eyes took no time adjusting to the darkness around me, but the darkness inside of me didn't subside the way the shadows in the corners of the cabin did. I fumbled for my boots, wincing as the cold leather made contact with my bare feet, then pulled my heavy cloak around my shoulders and headed for the ship's deck. There was no sense trying to get back to sleep after that dream; I'd had it often enough to know better. <i>Ocean's Mist</i> was a relatively small ship with a crew of 18 including her captain. She was the flagship of Pendulum, a trading company based out of Freeport. I'd found her in port in Qeynos at the end of the market day and, knowing her captain and company to be honorable and well established, sought overnight passage back to Freeport. As I made my way onto the deck, my hands responded to habit and rubbed at the small coin hidden inside a tiny paper envelope in my belt pouch. It was gold, smaller than the gold pieces circulated as Queen's currency, and bore on one side the image of Maj'Dul as seen from the beach in the Sinking Sands. The other side was blank. I figured Ria had given it to me to indicate I should travel to that desert city, but I wasn't much for making journeys without knowing why, and I needed to talk to my sister before I made arrangements. If she couldn't tell me what the coin meant, she'd know someone who could, and that someone would be much more adept at minding their own business than anyone I could employ for the same task in Qeynos. A muscular Koada woman stood at the helm, watching as her crew went about their business. It was clear she trusted them implicitly, that her relationship to them was much closer than that of commander and commanded. It was rare to see a Koada captain, much less a woman, but she looked so right standing there. She was muscled in ways your average high elf was not, and her red hair was cut short in a tomboyish fashion that lent a much needed rough edge to her otherwise delicate features. She served as a reminder that even purebloods suffer from the curse of breeding, which tries to make so many of us look like something we are not. Her back was to me, but she addressed me before I could inform her of my presence. "All the carryin' on gots ya up already? Ya ain't s'posed to rise ‘til after the sun's up, friend." Her rough sailor's speech forced any elven delicacy out of her voice. Shrugging noncommittally, I took up a place at her side, leaning heavily on the rail that enclosed the helm's raised deck. "Every time I'm on a ship, all my memories of being in the Company come back to me. Makes it hard to sleep." My voice was rough and deep, though whether from sleep or emotion was difficult to say. "Ya dun come from a ship's life, ya miss it I bet," she said, offering a sympathetic smile. My history as a sailor had come up when we negotiated passage. I make a point of bringing up that part of my life when dealing with unfamiliar captains, as it usually makes them more sympathetic. Though rivalries on the sea run as deep as they do on land, if not deeper, we who have lived on the ocean still feel a sense of camaraderie that supersedes our commitments to those who choose to stay on harder ground. I gave a heavy nod in response. "Sometimes I do, but sometimes I wonder how I wound up on a ship in the first place. I guess at the time I felt like I had no choice." I could feel the words bubbling up from the dark pool in my chest, and felt glad for the lack of light on deck, so Alae couldn't see how deeply the pain was etched into my face. She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, so I continued. "I'd just been Declared. I either had to promise loyalty to the Overlord or leave the city forever. Neither idea really appealed to me. So when the recruiter approached me the day after my Declaration, said if I joined I'd have the freedom to travel to both cities, well, I couldn't exactly say no." The waters were calm, though the sound of the waves tapping against the hull and the chatter of the wind in the sails made the deck far from quiet. You get used to all that background noise after you've been sailing for awhile; what's more, you learn to appreciate the freedom it gives you to talk, or to let someone else talk, without having to make conversation. If it's loud enough, you can talk at a normal volume and have the reasonable expectation that no one will even hear you. It wasn't that loud now, but there was enough noise that Alae could stand and listen to me with half an ear while still watching her crew, and I could babble on about my boring life story without worrying that she was silently wishing I'd shut up. "It's kinda funny to me now, that if it weren't for my big mouth I might never have been recruited at all. I was at the market on the Freeport docks, and the Teir'Dal who'd just sold me some wood, or silver, or some other supply my father needed, I don't even remember now, made a mistake on his ledger. He had the most ridiculous handwriting. Seriously, it was huge. I could see it from across the table and read it clearly even though it was upside down to me. So, idiot that I was in those days, I leaned over and pointed out his mistake, loud enough for his wife and his other customers to hear. I didn't even try to be subtle. That wasn't a skill I had back then. So of course the man got angry, having just been obnoxiously corrected by some half-breed brat kid, and he reaches for this huge wooden staff, probably to thump me over the head, when all of a sudden, this Barbarian, reeking of ale, grabs me by the shoulders and hauls me out of there faster than the old dark elf could get at me. ‘Ya got brains but ya sure don't got any sense,' he hissed at me, pulling me around a corner and sitting me down on a bench. Then he told me all about the Far Seas Trading Company. ‘Mongrel kid like you needs more sense than that if you're gonna survive, and lucky for you, I know just where ya can get it.' I still remember exactly what he said, because it was so carefully calculated to make me angry that now I'm just impressed. Back then I wasn't impressed, though. I wanted to prove to this drunkard that I had more sense than he did, which of course was what he was aiming for. So the next morning, I was packing a bag, with my father and Lei standing in the doorway looking totally dejected, and Xie sitting on my bed crying her eyes out. The day after that I was on the Far Seas training island- who has a training island, seriously- and I guess the rest is history." I paused for breath, surprised to hear myself talking so openly about my past with someone I hardly knew, and a pureblood no less. But Alae was more like me than her snobby land dwelling kin, so opening up to her didn't frighten me. "It all turned out well in the end I suppose. My captain loved me." I tried to say this last part without sounding too bitter or ironic. The wind picked up then, and the ship's crew responded, though evidently one of them did something Alae didn't approve of, so she sauntered over to harass him. Before I was out of earshot, she looked over her shoulder and said with a wink, "Cap'ns love their crew like a mackerel loves sea water." Then she was back with her posse, looking even more at home than she had standing next to me. "Veme!" she called, her voice full of that mocking tone one can only get away with in the company of close friends. The other crewmen standing near the chastised Veme looked on gleefully as the man knelt to kiss Alae's now outstretched boot. The group continued to jest, but I didn't stay to watch. I made my way back to my cabin and my now cold bed. When I closed my eyes, it wasn't dreams I saw, but vivid memories of one specific day: my first day as a Far Seas crewman. </div> *** </div> It was a bright, sunny afternoon. My two weeks as a Far Seas trainee had come to an end, and I'd been assigned to a ship: the <i>Daybreak</i>. She was a large ship, though not as large as some the Company used for intercity trading. This ship was meant to travel throughout the Shattered Lands with her cargo holds full while still able to flee if unforeseen dangers arose. I walked up the gangplank, following the four others who'd also been assigned to the <i>Daybreak</i>. All four were men, and all were young, like me. We'd been introduced a few minutes prior, but the butterflies flapping and flopping in my stomach had blown their names right out of my head. We stepped onto the deck, where the crew was busily preparing to set sail. Not one sailor spoke to us or even so much as acknowledged our presence as we formed a line against the rail. What those men needed to know of us, they'd learn by working alongside us, not by making idle chitchat, so their silence was not unexpected, but it still unnerved me. We waited what seemed like forever, though it was probably only a quarter of an hour, for the captain to come speak with us. As we waited, we watched the first mate, a blonde Barbarian even taller and stockier than most of his race, direct the crew, who worked faster and harder than anyone I'd trained with, and making no complaint, even when ropes got caught or sails were stubborn to rise. They cursed of course, as every sailor does, but none seemed genuinely disgruntled. At last the door to the captain's cabin opened, and from the shadows emerged the most beautiful Breed man I'd ever seen. His face was all lines and angles, his golden eyes were shadowed by his chiseled brow, his cheeks and jaw were perfectly defined, and his lips formed a hard line that was serious but not unkind. The darkened bronze tone of his skin was clearly the result of spending hours on deck in the sun, and his short dark hair was wind-rumpled in a way that looked accidental and purposeful at the same time. The laces of his white shirt were undone and the sleeves rolled up, offering a peek at the well muscled body beneath. The most striking thing about him was his youth: he seemed scarcely older than I was, though it's exceedingly difficult to gauge an Ayr'Dal's age, since there's no way to know if they age like a human or an elf, or something in between. He stopped in front of our ragged little line, and when he opened his mouth to speak I realized what a huge mistake I'd just made; not because his voice or tone rendered him unappealing, but rather because it was so authoritative. It hit me immediately what a foolish thing I'd done, gawking at him like a giggly girl. This man was my commander. I needed him to respect me, and the only way to make that happen was to respect him in turn. As soon as the revelation hit me, I pushed hard against the tingly, nervous feeling in my stomach, cramming it into a tiny space underneath all the rest of my emotions, hiding it away as best I could. "I'm Captain Andrin Strider, and the <i>Daybreak</i> has been my ship since I helped build her." His voice was strong and clear, carrying over the hubbub on the docks behind us. "As I'm sure you noticed during your training, this isn't the Militia or the Guard. I'm not going to watch over you the way those men would, though I <i>will</i> be watching you." He met our eyes in turn and gave us each a hard look. "You have signed a contract with the Company and you will be held to it, but I'm not going to keep you on this ship if you don't want to be here. My ship will sail just fine without you, and I have no patience for men- or women- who can't take orders. If you stay on the <i>Daybreak</i>, you'll do as I ask without asking questions and without hesitation. If you can't do that, leave now and I'll ask the Company to reassign you with no ill will. If you make me throw you off next time we reach port, your new assignment will not be so pleasantly acquired. Is that clear?" Andrin turned his piercing gaze to the sailor to my left, a quivering human boy who looked so young I half suspected him of forging his Declaration papers. To his credit, the boy met the captain's steely glare with a stare of his own, nearly managing to look confident and composed. Andrin nodded sharply. The towering Barbarian who'd been giving orders came and stood next to his captain, making the Breed man look no bigger than a schoolboy. There was deference in the first mate's stance, however, and though in all likelihood he could knock Andrin out with one swing of his meaty fists, he clearly respected the smaller man and didn't seem to notice or care about the difference in their statures. He pushed his long blonde hair out of his eyes as Andrin jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating that we should all turn our attention to the Barbarian. "Markam will show you to your bunks. I expect you to listen to him the way you would to me. He speaks with my voice. Go with him now, make haste." Our captain made a shooing motion with his hands, urging us to pick up our things and get out of the way of the men working to get us back out to sea. I was last in the line following Markam, and as I passed Andrin, he held out his hand to stop me. "Except you. Come with me." It was a good thing my first lesson in training had been the one about keeping my mouth shut, or else I might have said something really stupid as I tried to keep up with Andrin's long, purposeful stride.  He was taking me to the cabin he'd left a few minutes ago. The door creaked under his hands as he pushed it open forcefully. We stepped inside, stopping just inside the doorway, where I blinked rapidly to force my eyes to adjust to the much darker interior space, which was dim and cramped, though as pleasant as anything got on a ship. The cabin was rectangular, the door in the middle of one of the longer sides. One of the shorter sides was taken up by a bed, the other by a desk. Along the back wall was a long table covered in books and papers. Crates lined the remaining space next to the doorway. Some were open, and inside them I could see still more books. "I hear your skills with numbers and letters impressed the Company while you were in training. That's why I asked for you to be assigned to our ship. Our bookkeeper left us a month ago and we've never caught up. You're going to take his place." Company ships are inundated with paperwork, from import paperwork that varies at every port, to cargo manifests, tax forms, and declarations of intent to travel within territory patrolled by another organization. I'd had an inkling this was what I'd wind up doing, after the way I was recruited and trained, though I didn't expect to be thrown into it all at once, alone. I swallowed hard and tried to remember everything I'd just learned about Company policies. Andrin, not noticing my hesitation, gestured to the hard wooden chair sitting in front of the table, then grinned sheepishly at me. "Hope it doesn't bother you to work in my cabin, but this is all the space we've got for paperwork." With as much austerity as I could muster, I replied, "No, it doesn't bother me at all."

[SilverclawII]

<p>Well, I'll be...</p><p>Up until now, I believe I thought that the main character of the present setting was a male.  Probably because that's how I picture my own heros.  Now that I've read this chapter, that opinion is changing and the past chapters are opening up to a whole new context.</p><p>I did enjoy the chapter, though I think I would have broken the paragraphs a little more.  I don't know for certain, however...  They could be just fine, but as for me, I would have broken them up.</p><p>I had a hard time following the scene transitions of the dream, but I think that's just fine.  Dreams can be like that.  Maybe an asterix break between the dream and real world paragraphs would help "wake" me up along with the character.</p><p>Both descriptions of each boat and their captain and crews were excellent, and we got a little insider on how your character began her (I'm hoping it's a her) life as a trader.</p><p>The origin of an adventurer with beginnings in the Far Seas Trading Company is one I haven't seen before.  Maybe because most writers and players think this to be a bit too blah of beginnings for their heros.  Folks that think that should really read this.</p><p>Very nice work!  Glad to see you're still writing.</p>

[Eriol]

<cite>SilverclawII wrote:</cite><blockquote>I did enjoy the chapter, though I think I would have broken the paragraphs a little more.  I don't know for certain, however...  They could be just fine, but as for me, I would have broken them up.</blockquote> Keep them as they are.  There may be an instance here or there where it's too long, but as too many on this forum fall prey to the "1 paragraph per sentence" habit, I'd rather you err on the side you're on than risk going to far the other way. As for the story, I keep enjoying it.  I hope you stick with it.